


Challenge Me

by zaniness



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:33:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zaniness/pseuds/zaniness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s watching you with a feral look in his eyes. Despite sitting several feet apart and being surrounded by his and your own advisors, the possessive gaze feels intimate. You feel this makes all the difference. You want to look away, but you know you cannot. Doing so would only show him what he’s always thought—that he is the dominate in your relationship. You’re not about to give in that easily. You straighten your back and raise your head.  </p><p>He may be King Under the Mountain, but you are a queen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Challenge Me

He’s watching you with a feral look in his eyes. Despite sitting several feet apart and being surrounded by his and your own advisors, the possessive gaze feels intimate. You feel this makes all the difference. You want to look away, but you know you cannot. Doing so would only show him what he’s always thought—that he is the dominate in your relationship. You’re not about to give in _that_ easily. You straighten your back and raise your head. 

He may be King Under the Mountain, but you are a queen. You have gone into battle and fought your own enemies. You have faced more frightening creatures than one dwarf king.

You will not cow so easily.

He sees the shift and you cock an eyebrow. _Challenge me._

It’s in the way that his eyes narrow imperceptibly and the small nod of his head that tell you he is more than interested in rising to the challenge you have presented to him. You smirk and nod your head as well.

It would become a game then. How fun.

Your lips stretch over your teeth in a predatory smile. Glancing around the room, you notice that no one has caught this small exchange between you and the king.  You watch the other members of the room and decide that they were too focused on the matters at hand—bickering amongst themselves—to have noticed that.

You begin to wonder what else you could get away with. You had never thought yourself to be an exhibitionist, but you decide to make an exception for the King Under the Mountain.

You watch as Thorin’s eyes move back to Balin. The dress you are wearing is low-cut—a wondrous example of what your people can do with a needle and thread.

It would be all too easy to tease your nipples the second Thorin looks back to you. You start to move your fingers right above your breasts, a gentle caress of your own fingers. The men at the table turn to face you to make their inquiry, you respond and they move back to the map in front of them.

But Thorin’s eyes stay.

And that’s when you slip your hand down the front of your dress and pull your breast just enough that he can see you rub the hardened flesh there. With your other hand, you slowly lick the tip of your finger and circle it around your nipple.

And that’s _definitely_ got his attention.

You’re sure you hear a deep growl emanating from the king’s throat and that makes you want to laugh—who knew it would be so easy to rile him up?

You should have guessed.

You wonder how much more it will take to get him hard. Something tells you he’s already half-hard and fighting it. You remove your hands from your chest and lean forward on the table, resting your chin in your hand.

 _How far can I push you_ is written in your eyes. You’re both curious about that.

You want to wind your fingers in his thick hair and _pull_. Force his face up and slap it. Bring the great king to his _knees_.  

You lean back in your chair, slinging a leg over the arm and pulling your skirts up _just so_. You don’t do much yet.

_Let him stew._

A few more minutes of heated glances pass by before you pull your skirts up the rest of the way so he can see your dripping pussy.

The others at the table are still arguing. When you try to meet his gaze, his eyes are effectively trapped somewhere else. You make a small noise in your throat and his eyes shoot back to yours.

And you know, in that moment, with eyes blown wide and a flushed and breathless look to him, that you have him.

For now, you have won.

With that knowledge behind you, you slide your fingers in between your folds and rub the bundle of nerves there. Your mouth parts and your head tilts back as you try to stifle the moan.

Your fingers slide down the length of your sex. You gently slip your fingers inside yourself, teasing both of you. Your fingers are covered it your own wetness and you bring them to your lips and lick them clean. It is an agonizingly slow movement and you can see that Thorin’s resolve is waning.

You move your fingers back down to your sex and continue to pleasure yourself. Thorin’s almost gone mad with desire—you can clearly see the burn in his eyes. At any moment now, he is going to snap; shove everyone out and take you.

That is what is obviously written in his eyes, but that is not how it will happen. Oh no. You will win.

As you continue to pleasure yourself, your other hand comes up to cup your breast and squeeze. You can feel yourself coming close to the edge. In a moment of inspiration, you decide on your next action.

You straighten yourself and fix your skirts; you make sure there is no sign of your previous debauchery before you stand.

The advisors look up.

“If you’ll give the king and I a moment, gentlemen,” you say.

They nod, grumbling, and leave. Thorin looks at you again. Another challenge.

After the door has closed and you are completely alone, you walk over to him. Before he can say anything, you put your fingers in his hair and pull.

He makes a surprising moan.

“Like that, do you?” you ask.

He doesn’t have to answer that. The half-lidded look he gives you is more than enough proof.

“Thought you were going to win there for a moment, didn’t you?” Another sharp tug. “How wrong you were.”

You slide yourself up on to the table in front of him and guide his mouth to your sex, keeping a hold of his hair. His hands come up and wrap around your thighs. He roughly pulls you closer to him, effectively burying his face in you.

He licks a stripe up your wet sex before sucking and biting briefly on your clit. You moan at this movement, wriggling against him to try and get more friction. With your hand still in his hair, you pull him closer and roughly angle his tongue exactly where you want it. He licks at your clit and you can feel the tension building in you, threatening to boil over any second.

He releases one of your thighs in order to shove a thick finger inside of you as he continued to pleasure your clit with his decidedly talented tongue. It is then that his thumb comes up to rub your clit. And you’re _so close._ All it would take to have to you screaming is the touch right th—oh _god._

 There are now two fingers pumping in and out of you and his thumb keeps circling and his tongue keeps working and with just a little more pressure, you’re screaming and yanking on his hair.  A gasp leaves his throat. You watch as he licks his fingers clean.

Pleased and assured that you have proven yourself the dominate, you release him. You slide off the long table and straighten your dress. You briefly look down and notice that he is completely hard. You smirk before leaving him to his own devices.  

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
